Regrets
by naaanaaa
Summary: He has a dilemma, one that has him stressed and awake at midnight, lying on half of the problem and cursing himself for being a perfect fit. But it isn't Dash's fault. It's his, all his. (Reveal Fic.)
1. Strain

**Hello~I don't even ship these two idk what you talkin about...**

 **This (I think) is going to be a two-shot or a short story. Hope you enjoy.**

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At twelve AM, Danny is warm and tired under the covers, yet very much awake. His head will not quieten down, like a constant conversation going on through the thin walls of the next room he can't ignore. His chest rises and falls with his breath, as does the larger one he is currently half-lying on.

He has a dilemma, one that has been built upon for a long time now, and has been pushed under the carpet with a great effort for longer. The carpet can't fit much more underneath it. Now it has him stressed and awake at midnight, lying on half of the problem and cursing himself for being a perfect fit.

But it isn't Dash's fault. It's his, all his.

As most people do when faced with a problem, Danny tries to find the beginning. Perhaps, for Danny, this started with what he would call the first real conversation he ever had with Dash. It wasn't in middle school when they first butted heads, no, this conversation was just last year.

' _Did you know he likes to draw?_ ' Danny had told Sam and Tucker the next day at school, inexcusably exited. And why had he been so exited? Danny still wonders. Maybe it was the initial amazement, the shock. He had never thought of Dash as anything more than the bully in school to be avoided at all costs until the unexpected conversation the night before. Sam and Tucker had wondered at the time; the not so subtle looks they were sending each other were clue enough. But Danny kept going, ' _And he is actually pretty good. He even had a cute comic._ '

' _Wow,_ ' Tucker had said, ' _Did you just call something Dash did cute?_ ' He quirked a smile, amused.

Not too much later, Danny was greeted by Dash in the form of being shoved into his own locker, and his goodbye was the obnoxious laughter left behind as he walked away. Danny was angry, and sorely embarrassed at his own words just that morning. Sam and Tucker said nothing. It was a reminder that Dash hadn't talked to Danny last night, he had merely talked with Phantom.

Danny stares as he thinks, eyes tired but refusing to close, and looks at the white hair with a faint glow in front of his face. The other half of the problem.

Danny hadn't tried to get close to Dash. After the first conversation, one that started with Dash wanting to thank the town hero (something Danny was also shocked by), he was convinced that would also be the last. He had wanted it to be. Dash, however, seemed to have had other ideas. The first turned into the second time their paths crossed, and when Dash realised Danny wasn't in a great mood to talk, the third time he came armed with new drawings for him to keep. Yeah, he still has them.

Maybe this was the real start. The curiosity. The bewilderment. Dash acted so different. He was always _shy_ when presenting his work, a quirk Danny never thought would fit the football star. Danny smiles as he remembers how panicked he was when he had first opened his drawing book. The guy was sweating. Not only that, he talked about himself a lot less. He never yelled. He generally wanted to hear about Danny's day; a _ghost's_ day. Who does that? And when he did talk about himself, it was in a way Danny wasn't familiar with. Not that he ever did talk to the jock. At all, he realised. But he had assumed a conversation with him wouldn't flow in the least, but the hours past like minutes. He talked about football. A lot. But he did so with a passion Danny didn't mind listening to. He had never invited Danny to a game, however. Danny finds this strange, but he has no right to pry.

This was the start; when Danny wanted to know more about him.

The dilemma itself started with the lies. They were so natural, he didn't even think about it being a problem in the future. The act of being a ghost and a human separately is something he mastered long ago. It was the refusal to let Dash know any more about himself. About the truth. It was a selfish double standard, really.

Danny didn't know things would go this far, or get this complicated. He isn't sure if knowing would have made a difference.

When did Danny start shrugging off the bullying like it was nothing? When did he stop thinking bad of Dash for doing it? His mind was suddenly overwhelmed with the promise of a nicer man, and he imagined all the good times they had together were more of apologies for the bad. It was a nice, warm Band-Aid for the wound. Again. And again. And again.

But Dash doesn't know. It isn't his fault. Danny tries so hard to make sure of it. He puts a blindfold over his eyes, and constantly tightens the knot. He shouldn't be angry at him for not seeing something impossible for him to see.

Now he is lying on a sleeping Dash's chest in a warm double bed, and he knows he has gone too far. He cares for him, and he wants to be with him, but he doesn't want to hide anymore.

They are in a hotel room, because Dash would much rather pay for a room for the night and lie than have his parents find out about this relationship for many reasons. Danny couldn't say anything different or against it; he has been doing it his own family for years.

They have never gone out. Not to a party, not to a bowling alley, not even down the _street_. They can't, for more reasons than Dash knows. But Danny wants to, so badly, and they could, if Danny was human.

So Danny lies here, wide awake but tired beyond belief, wanting so badly to tell Dash the truth, so they could walk down a street together.

And Danny scoffs at himself, bitter. If Dash would be able to stand to be in the same building with him once he knows.

And does his selfishness ever end? Here he is, finally thinking about telling the truth, and only for himself. He wants to go anywhere with Dash, out in the open, that's it. Not that he could have thought Dash _deserves_ to know something so big about him, about just _what_ he is sleeping with, or _who_.

The heartbeat under his ear is suddenly slightly faster, and Danny knows Dash is awake. A hand rubs his back once, but it does little to loosen his tense shoulders. There is a drowsy groan before he speaks, "You…still awake, Dan?"

Danny doesn't answer, he doesn't know if he can. His throat is tight from the frustrating argument in his head. He merely tucks himself closer to Dash's form, and that is enough for Dash.

"Hey, you ok?" His voice is drowsy and concerned. Danny feels him shift to see him better. Danny wishes Dash had stayed asleep, so he could think more and do nothing.

"'Mm….fine." And that is the least convincing lie he has ever told. He is too tired, too confused as to what to do.

No, _that_ is the least convincing lie he has ever told. He knows perfectly well what he needs to do, and he dreads it so much he almost feels sick.

"What's the matter?" Dash asks, "Want to talk about it?"

Danny doesn't, he really doesn't. It takes most of his energy to lift his head and look at Dash's face. His de-shelved hair, bright blue, tired eyes still trying to focus. It's still a good look, Danny thinks.

"I…" Danny looks away, "I don't, um, _want_ to. But, I-I have to." He speaks slowly, like walking a plank, preparing to fall.

He can't hide anymore. For himself, for Dash. He can't keep going on like this. His times with Dash are beginning to feel more and more like a lie, like an act. He doesn't know exactly when relaxing turned to stress, or when Dash calling him a ghost brought so much hurt and guilt. He needs for the charade to stop.

But how much he wants to turn invisible right now.

Danny isn't looking at his face anymore, but he can imagine a look of confusion, of concern. He wonders if Dash will ever be concerned about him again.

Danny gets off of Dash's chest and rolls onto his back. Dash shifts to sit up more in bed, and waits.

Danny makes him wait for a while, though. He doesn't know how to start, and he doesn't want to start. The start means the end. He perhaps makes Dash wait too long, because it's him who speaks first.

"Do you want anything from the mini fridge?" He offers offhandedly. Danny would have smiled, if in a better mood, at the gesture. Instead he is both saddened and grateful for the conversation starter.

"I, ah, no thanks, Dash." Danny still avoids his eyes, his face, his direction at all. He decides to start, but slowly, "Have you ever…kept a secret, Dash?"

"You know I have." He answers, and he is right. Danny knows all about his secrets. His stomach drops, and his guilt intensifies.

"I mean, like, a _big_ secret. N-not that any of yours aren't big or important or anything I just," Danny stops himself, and takes a moment to put a hand over his face and just _calm down_.

"Hey," Dash says softly, and puts a hand on Danny's shoulder. "What's this about all of a sudden?"

"I," Danny takes a shaky breath, "I have been keeping a secret from you." He says, and feels his throat grow tighter, dryer, as if begging him to stop while he's ahead, "And I, I can't, anymore…"

Danny doesn't move, the hand stays over his face, and Dash doesn't either. Danny tells himself he is waiting for a reaction, and not using it as an excuse to draw this out. He takes a peek at the hotel door.

"…Oh," Dash says. He doesn't sound angry, Danny notes. He sounds surprised, and still a bit drowsy. "Well, I mean, that's ok. Everyone has secrets, I guess."

Danny half shakes his head at that, at how much Dash sounds ok with it. This won't last long, he knows. "No, Dash, y-you don't understand. It's…big."

Dash is quiet for a beat, "If you're not ready to tell me, you don't have to, you know. Though you've gotten me curios now." The last part ends with a strained chuckle. Dash is getting worried, Danny feels the hand on his shoulder leave.

Danny sits up, his anxiety moving for him. His back faces Dash. "No, it has to be tonight. I can't do it anymore. You need to know. And, and if you hate me for it," Danny's grips the quilt, "Then I understand." And it's the truth. What would he do if the person he has gotten to know and care about was someone else entirely? It is too hopeful a thought to entertain the idea Dash would even talk to him later, let alone hold him like this again.

Dash doesn't move or speak, and Danny finally looks his way again. Dash seems to be done with lightening the mood Danny continues to bring down. He face is set and concerned, like he is getting bad news from the doctor about a loved one.

Dash nods, "Ok. Tell me, then."

Danny stiffly nods, and works to move his body to face Dash fully. He sits on his knees in his baggy black pants. Dash wears full winter pyjamas. Probably because Danny is so cold, but whenever Danny askes he always insists it's fine.

Danny is going to miss these nights. When they get together, talk, watch movies, relax. Danny always found it kind of sappy, but knowing Dash's love for romance movies, Dash must be in heaven.

"I…" Danny looks at the bed, completely defeating the purpose of turning to Dash in the first place, but he can't help it. He realises then that he has never actually told anybody this secret. Ever. Sam and Tucker where at the accident, and Jazz and Vlad found out because he was carless. The ghosts know because the dead just love to gossip.

He has planned to tell his parents in his head many times, but the conversation, both the body of it and the outcome, change every time. Some of the scenarios give him the opposite of what he wants and hopes for, only fuelling his fears. Danny tries to re-enact one of the good ones, and starts.

"So, I have been keeping something important from you, about me, and I just need to say I'm sorry." Danny looks up briefly. Dash is giving Danny his full attention. "I didn't mean for things to go this far, really." His heart, something a ghost shouldn't have, beats too fast, "T-The truth is, I-I'm not really a full, um, ghost."

He knows this explanation is much too vague. Not even his parents, the scientists, would know what he would be trying to get at. But he wants this to go slowly. Too slowly, maybe.

Dash takes his hand and rubs the sleep out of his eye, "Um, I don't get it." He says after a while, and of course he doesn't. "You're…not a ghost?" Danny first nods, but then shakes his head.

"Well, I am, I guess." His mournful stare at the mattress is becoming frustrated. Now he just wants the words to come out. Now he wants the conversation to be over, but his mind is racing and yet stalled as to what to say next. "But I am…um, more. I, I- Jesus Christ." He cruses, and rubs his hands over his face. "I'm sorry, I'm just scared, I-I've never done this before."

He suddenly takes one of Dash's hands in his, firmly, and looks to him, "I'm not the person you think I am, I mean, I am, just not _what_ you think I am. I _have_ lied to you, but I really do like comic books and, and I love space and rockets and horror movies and video games. And, you. I didn't lie about any of that." His words are just falling out now, desperate for a good outcome in a situation he never wanted, but saw coming. The hand on Dash's is tight.

Dash, shocked, can do nothing but grip back, as if reassuring. He nods, "Ok, ok I believe you, Danny. Just…what do you want to tell me?"

Danny takes in a breath. He lets it out. He loosens his grip on Dash's hesitantly, slightly embarrassed about his earlier display.

 _Now_ , he thinks, he knows. No more charades, no more hiding, or lying. But possibly, no more Dash.

But he hasn't run out yet. He has been concerned with Danny, not angry. Danny has hope.

Danny looks at his face, and sees him flinch abruptly at the sudden white ring of light around Danny's waist. Dash's hand moves away from his as this ring splits into two, each making their own way over Danny's body.

He has never seen his own transformation. He only feels it; the cold retreating into his form; the power over his skin trickling away to be bottled up inside when needed; the slow return of the laws of gravity to weigh his shoulders down. The unnatural tingling of a ghost becoming a human is so natural to him. He knows his eyes turn blue and his hair turns black and his skin becomes paler, but as he forces himself to look at Dash's face, he feels like he is truly seeing it for the first time.

He feels like a freak.

Dash's eyes never leave, although the bright light has him squinting. He doesn't dear to blink. The white halo splits, and he follows it. Danny knows he should be seeing his T-shirt now, white with a red circle, he can feel the material touching his skin where it wasn't before, and Dash should see the top of his blue jeans. Dash's face shows confusion, maybe trying to place where he had seen this before, maybe still trying to work out what is going on. Each is entirely possible.

By the time the ring is past Danny's face and finishing at his hair and shoes, Dash's face changes dramatically, and it has Danny's stomach do flips, his heart ache, and he wishes he could do this over. He wishes he could start again, like in his imaginary conversations. This isn't a good outcome.

Dash looks horrified.

Danny isn't given time to say anything. As soon as the light vanishes, Dash grips his side of the quilt and throws it away from him. He looks ready to leap out of bed, so Danny grabs his shoulder.

"W-Wait, I-" Danny doesn't know what to say, and he says no more when Dash swats his hand away. That may as well have been a punch to the gut, and Danny stays still as Dash scurries out of bed, panicked.

Now standing, Dash doesn't seem to know what to do. He is breathing hard, "Y-You, I, what the _fuck_?!" He cries, more so to the ground he is staring at than Danny as he fidgets and paces left to right to left. He still doesn't sound angry, Danny idly registers. More scared, shocked, and Dash grips his blond hair.

Danny stays kneeling on the bed, gritting his teeth as his feelings become painful and muddled in his chest. Maybe Dash will calm down, maybe they can still talk about this. But Dash suddenly shakes his head, and grabs his coat from the back of the hotel desk chair and the room key. He grabs nothing else, not the rest of his folded cloths, nor the movies they had been watching, and, to Danny's dismay, he storms to the door.

Dash opens it, coat in hand, and seems to be hesitant for just a second. But he doesn't look back to Danny, doesn't say a parting word, and swiftly walks out into the bright hallway, leaving the door to slowly close on its own.

Danny doesn't know how long after Dash's departure he stays there. He is looking down over his human hands, and only when drops fall lightly atop them does he know he is crying. He puts a hand over his mouth when a sob racks his body.

Dash left.

But it isn't Dash's fault. It's his.

All his.

* * *

 **It get happier i swear. Dash isn't a total dick for walking out. I think.**

 **I hope you liked it! Please tell me if you did! And if you didn't, please tell me what i need to look at!**


	2. Piece of Paper

**Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey, I am on a role with this one. I think. I hope i finish this. All the reviews are so awesome i love them! I hope this chapter is ok. I never plan things.**

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Danny doesn't have an appetite. He only looks at the food on the cafeteria tray, and occasionally pushes the food side to side as something to do. He had been lost as to what Sam and Tucker were talking about a while ago, but he needs to keep his mind occupied with something. Something besides Dash. Dash, who is likely sitting just a few tables away.

Danny stops pushing the food. Well that didn't work, did it?

"Danny, dude, what's wrong?" Tucker asks, and Danny looks up from his food. Both Sam and Tucker have stopped talking, however long ago Danny doesn't know, and are looking at him. Their eyes and the topic quickly have Danny looking back to his food, however.

"Um, I-"

"If you say it's nothing, I swear," Sam cuts in, pointing her tofu filled fork across the table his way.

Danny shakes his head, "No, I was going to say," He releases a tired sigh, having not gotten much sleep, and rests his head on his hand, "It's…Dash." He says, stabbing something he assumes is a green vegetable with his fork.

Sam and Tucker are still for a while, maybe surprised. Dash hasn't come up as a problem for a long while. He would usually be one to put a smile on his face. They have their problems with Danny's relations with him, sure, but they keep their opinions relatively to themselves. That is, unless Danny has a frown on his face.

"What did he do?" Sam asks, firm, and Danny knows she is ready for the excuse to sprint down five rows of tables and tackle the quarter-back football star to the ground in the name of friendship. Tucker waits for the same answer.

Danny shakes his head, "Nothing. I, I just, told him. Last night." He says. Sam's fork loses its threatening nature and it falls limp in her hand. She's shocked.

"Oh," Tucker starts, voicing her surprise as well as his, "How did he, um, take it?"

"You should have seen his face," Danny says, bitter, frustrated, sad, "I have never felt more like a f-freak." He drops his fork into the food, done with it, and pushes the tray away. "But I had to tell him. I couldn't do it anymore, but I didn't think he would just, just walk out like that. He didn't even say anything…"

"Wow," Tucker says, "What a dick." Danny supposes that is as much comfort as Tucker can give in this situation.

"I second that," Sam says, "Here you are, showing him your biggest secret, and he doesn't even say anything?"

"Well, he said 'what the fuck'." Danny clarifies, but this reminder makes him feel even worse. He buries his head in his folded arms on the table so far he can only see black. "But that's justified, isn't it?" He mumbles through his arms, "I…I should have told him sooner."

It's obvious Sam and Tucker have little idea as to what to say to make him feel any better— their silence is proof enough. But, Danny thinks, he doesn't even know what he would want to hear himself. His mind is only a whirlpool of regret.

"This probably won't make you feel much better," Sam starts, and Danny doesn't know if he wants her to continue. "But, I don't think telling him any sooner would have made a difference."

She was right, this statement doesn't make him feel any better at all. He leaves his head buried in his arms, the thought depressing him. Was this the only outcome? No matter how many days into their relationship or what Danny did, was Dash always going to walk out the door without a word? It sounds horrible, but the truth isn't always sweet.

"On the bright side," Tucker jumps through Danny's thoughts, his voice trying to take on a much too cheery tone, "I doubt he will bully you anymore."

And, amazingly, that was a bright side, wasn't it? A human punch hasn't been able to hurt him for a long while, but as his relationship with Dash got more serious, the man's teasing and pushing and awful nature at school started to hurt more and more, leaving scars that not even a hug or a kiss or a beautiful drawing might brush away. What was once a nuisance equal to a mosquito buzzing evolved into something Danny didn't know how to handle. But, Danny countered, what else wouldn't Dash do? Look at him? Notice him? Walk down the same hallway?

Danny groans, exasperated with his own thoughts. Eventually, Danny does raise his head. Sam and Tucker are silent, possibly absorbed in their own thoughts or a silent conversation between them, but Danny looks past them. He looks past many tables and students, until he spots the table hosting Paulina, Star, Kwan; all the popular kids in school. He doesn't know how he should feel about what he finds.

Dash isn't at school.

* * *

Dash didn't go to school. He hasn't gone to school for many days, in fact. His excuse was a sore stomach and a bad headache. But, to be honest, a lot of these days off were spent with just that- A headache.

He's thinking too much. His head feels like a merry-go-round; thoughts and emotions constantly and intently moving around and around but going nowhere, leaving him lying awake in bed till the rise of morning for many nights in a row. At the centre of all the man's reflections and frustrations was the one disastrous fact he had been forced to become aware of just one week ago.

Dash walks across the pavement leading to the busy school entrance. With the flow of students walking in, the double doors stay wide open. Dash's dread increases with every step he takes. His face is set in one of awkward concentration, but he doesn't know what he is supposed to be concentrating on.

Dash almost trips over someone he hadn't noticed in front of him.

Getting to his locker would be a good start.

Dash had walked out that hotel room with shock, and as he had made his way home at one AM in his pyjamas and coat and bare feet, the shock melted and simmered and boiled into anger. He felt hurt, betrayed, blinded, stupid, and he did all he could to keep these harsh emotions at bay long enough not to storm up the stairs and slam his room door.

He didn't get much sleep that night. Or a night after this, when he started to calm down and reflect.

Through the doors and down two hallways, Dash reaches his locker on auto-pilot, all the while he stresses the crowd of people for the one person he doesn't want to see.

Dash puts a hand to his locker door, and is startled by a voice behind him.

"You don't look so good." Paulina states, and Dash has gotten used to how blunt her tone is long ago. It isn't one of concern. "You will get horrible wrinkles looking like that. And senior prom is so close!"

No, it isn't, really, Dash thinks. A good few months away isn't close to him at all. Perhaps it is to someone who pre-plans her clothes for a party even weeks away.

"Ah, right." Is all Dash says to this, and opens his locker. This doesn't seem to satisfy Paulina, however, and as if letting out all the annoyance in one short burst, she huffs.

"What's up with you? Kwan said you were sick, are you still not over it?" She asks. She isn't happy, maybe her conversation isn't going to plan, but unfortunately for her Dash can't seem to care all that much today. The second he walked out of his house he has only thought to care about one thing—getting home again.

Dash starts to collect his books, conscious of the fact every minute spent in the hallway there is a higher chance a certain black haired student could turn the corner.

But then, Paulina suddenly brightens.

"Whatever, I wanted to show you something." And, to Dash's curiosity, she takes out her phone, "This should cheer you up a bit! It happened yesterday." She stands next to Dash, being sure not to touch too much, and raises the phone sideways in front of them. It's then Dash realises she wants to show him a video, and with his current head-space he is happy to have a possible distraction.

Until she continues.

"That Fenton kid is still such a freak, right?" She says with humour, and she presses play before he can even comprehend the words properly.

The small screen comes to life with the picture of a classroom. Paulina (If this is her video, and not taken by someone else) sits roughly in the middle of the room, and the camera is awkwardly pointed behind her, capturing the man Dash had hoped to not see for the day. Danny is at his desk, looking down at his work.

Dash hears Paulina is already giggling at his side with a wide smile, obviously anticipating what was to come.

On screen, Dash sees why Paulina is already giggling, but he doesn't want to join. Instead, the sight has him incredibly concerned.

Danny's head is swaying, and his eyes are closing. His hand barley holds onto his pencil. Paulina (for it really is her) on-screen is giggling now as well, and in no time Danny's head drops onto his desk, asleep. But it isn't finished. His weight is uneven, and soon his whole body and his chair tumble loudly to the ground. The camera shakes with Paulina's laughter, joined by many others in the class, and the video ends.

Paulina, with her free hand, lightly slaps Dash's shoulder in her fit of giggles. But she seems to realise Dash is doing nothing to join her, and slows. "Hey, why aren't you laughing?"

Dash feels sick, because one week ago he would have. He would have been hysteric. One week ago he would have walked into school, proud and just _waiting_ for Fenton to walk past him, so he could have an entertaining morning. One week ago he would have brought this up to Fenton himself in the harshest of ways he could bother to think of. One week ago he would have been happy, because he had an amazing night with someone he cared so much about to look forward to.

Dash slams his locker shut, much to Paulina's visible shock.

"I need to go." Dash strains to say, and bolts. He runs, his stomach doing flips, not knowing at first where he wants to go until he sees the boys bathroom to his left. He stops quickly, and even as the bell shrills throughout the entire building, he goes inside. Desperate, he turns on the sink taps and assaults his face with the freezing water.

The cold doesn't help as much as he could have liked, but at least he is alone. The bathroom is cleared of anyone who doesn't want to get detention for being late.

He leans on his elbows either side of the sink, and bows his head.

It's still so hard to think of them as the same person. _It's so impossible,_ _It's so impossible_ \- his mind continues to annoy him with this mantra, as if thinking it enough would erase that night from ever having to happen. It's so hard to think the man he loved to hate was the ghost he loved to hold.

One flash of white light in a hotel room, and Dash is rendered leaning over a sink of flowing cold water, lost as to what to do next.

And then the door swings open.

At first Dash doesn't bother to see who it is that has walked in at probably the weakest moment of his life, but the man acknowledges him first.

"Baxter." His last name is said with a very cocky tone, and that has Dash looking up more than being addressed. _Who the hell would…?_

Tucker Foley stands behind him, to the side, and they look at each other via the mirror. He shows a smirk when their eyes meet.

Dash doesn't want to face Danny, but facing his friends may be just as bad if they know about what has transpired. By the cocky smirk and tone, Foley knows very well.

Dash looks back to the sink, "Go. Away." He says, with no room for argument. It doesn't work.

"Oh, no, I don't think I will." He walks closer, and leans on the sink next to Dash. "We need to talk."

Dash turns the taps off, the noise distracting, and straightens. He and Foley have never talked before, alone. They have shared a few not-so-nice words a few times, but Dash is guessing the coming conversation is going to be a lot more serious, as much as the tech-nerd is joking around. Acting smooth and sly while wearing an ugly yellow turtleneck and thick glasses doesn't equal an intimidating advance.

Dash, now standing tall, sees Foley's smile falter just a bit and he moves a few centimetres away. Subtle. Dash notices a folded piece of paper in Foley's hand.

Dash waits for Foley to continue, because really, he kind of wants to know what he has to say. He isn't even sure how much Foley knows. After a while in a silence spent with only the echoed drops of the wet faucet, Foley's strained smirk drops all together, and the nerd is suddenly serious.

"Do you like Danny?"

The question, although straight forward and simple, has Dash stunned the more he thinks about it. And Dash has been doing a lot of thinking lately.

 _Do I like Danny?_ The man he has called Danny these past long and amazing months comes to mind; the Danny with white hair and a stunning laugh. The ghost that compliments the drawings he can't help but find flaws in, the Danny that becomes adorably self-conscious at how cold his skin is when cuddling. The ghost that, although fighting bad guys every other day (and kicks their _ass_ ), still finds time and bothers to meet up with Dash whenever he can.

But this isn't all of Danny, now, is it? It never was.

Danny also has black hair. He also goes to his school. And Dash stalls, finding nothing else to put with this image of Danny.

Oh, Dash remembers, he does…

He likes space, and rockets, and comic books and video games and horror movies. He likes staring at the stars till it creeps Dash out.

They're the same person.

But it is still so hard. And yet, the more he thinks about this a puts the two halves together as _Danny_ , Dash is starting to feel so much amazement at this fact now. Danny is so much more than he first thought he knew. He's a ghost, and somehow a human as well. He fights monsters three times his size, and still goes to classes at school.

There is a whole other side he doesn't know the half of, and he wants to know more about him.

Dash leans, and looks down at the sink again. He nods, "Yeah," He says to Tucker. "I really do."

Tucker nods, "That's goo-"

"But," Dash cuts in, the real question coming up. A question that he can't find the answer to, no matter how late it keeps him up at night pondering, "Why would…Danny like _me_?" Phantom (and only Phantom, as far as Dash knew) liking him was believable; they had spent a lot of time together, thanks to Dash's persistence. But now, knowing Dash has in reality known Danny for years and hasn't been…the best to him, how could Danny have wanted to get so close?

Foley chuckles, actually _chuckles_ at his question.

"I really wouldn't know, man." He answers, and Dash supposes that's fair. "Ask Danny."

At this, Dash almost shakes his head. He couldn't. He can't even begin to think about facing Danny right now. Tucker must have seen his reluctance, because he takes a step forward.

"Hey, I am actually here _for_ you, you know. And Danny. Mostly Danny. I want to help. As bad as you look, which is _awful_ , by the way," Dash frowns, "Danny if fairing worse."

Dash remembers the video from just yesterday, and he can't argue.

"So," Tucker stands facing Dash, and Dash does the same, "We decided it's all your fault, and," he holds the piece of paper up, "we wrote down all the things you can do to make Danny feel better." He finishes with a smile.

Dash doesn't need to strain to know the ' _we'_ he refers to is Danny's other friend, the goth. Dash hesitantly takes the note that's handed to him, not believing it holds the answers as to what to do to make all his wrongs right. Because what Tucker says is true; it's all his fault. But, Dash thinks, these are Danny's best friends. They know him more than anyone; especially him. Perhaps they have written down something special.

"I, ah, thanks Foley- I mean, um, Tucker."

"Wow, you _do_ remember my name." He says, "But, do you remember my catch-phrase?"

Dash, confused, slowly shakes his head, no. _Do people really have those_?

Suddenly Tucker shoots up his hands with a grin, pointing two finger-guns Dash's way, "That's _T.F_ ," He says proudly, with a grin, "for _Too Fine_ ~" and, job done Dash supposes, Tucker starts walking backwards towards the door, keeping the pose. Dash is too weirded out to laugh when Tucker has a lot of trouble getting the door open backwards.

Alone again, Dash looks down at the piece of paper, hopeful.

Now he has what he needs to do. It starts, Dash knows, with hiding no more.

* * *

 **I have never done Dash's point of view before. And I don't think i got as much emotion in there as i first wanted, so i may re-do or add things later. idk. Tucker was great fun.**


	3. Communication

**_Heeey_ ~~~! another chapter finally. i suck at working on anything. how am i handling uni? I'm not.**

 **I hope you all like it!**

* * *

Dash gets home early. This is partly due to his utter distaste for school at the moment, and partly due to remembering he and Danny share a history class the last period of the day. Not looking across the large cafeteria was hard enough, a tiny classroom? Impossible. Not until he has what he wants to say even partially figured out. His head is still a mess.

So, Dash sits at his desk after sneaking to his room, and is now starring at the open paper Tucker had graciously given him. He has already read through it, twice, and it simultaneously disappoints and humours him.

Maybe Dash put a bit too much hope and responsibility in the note. No, he definitely did. He had imagined, on his way home, to open the piece of paper and be met with a step by step list instructing him to the simplest yet most effective way to, really, understanding how to fix this relationship. And, perhaps, direct him to the best way to beg for forgiveness. Or something. Now, Dash scoffs at himself.

Not to say the note doesn't help.

It has two types of handwriting. Dash doesn't know which belongs to who, but he can tell, despite the situation, the two had some fun with it.

 _ **Get him chocolate (**_ _ **Plain Milk**_ _ **)**_

Dash had frowned when first reading it, sorely disappointed. Now, he simply nods. That's a good thing to remember, he supposes.

 _Take him bowling_

 _Take him to an_ _observatory!_ _:D_

 _ **Beach**_

 _Park_

 _ **Just take him anywhere, idiot**_

The last one is rushed and messy, and he wouldn't be surprised if they were annoyed at the many random (but thoughtful, he's sure) places taking up space. Again, Dash had been unhappy with the list. These are obvious! But, he realises, he hadn't actually thought of taking Danny anywhere for a date. In public. The reasons have him drowning in self-loathing, hate, and insecurity.

The thought of taking him out to have a good time shouldn't bring Dash such…fear. The fear of prying eyes. The fear of not knowing what those eyes may be seeing, what they may be thinking. Judging. His stomach tightens at just the idea, at just imagining how many _people_ may be at a bowling alley, the beach, the park. He doesn't really know what an observatory is, but it sounds big. He dreads the possibility of someone he knows catching them.

He likes the hotel rooms. He checks in by himself in the lobby, and Danny would come through the walls. No one would ever know he had spent the night, alone, romantically, with another man.

 _He_ is the one to be feared. He makes his opinions loud and known to all in any given vicinity whenever something disgusts him, angers him and confuses him, even if it doesn't necessarily do that. His friends always agree with him and mirror his laughter, so he must say the right things a lot.

He imagines he and Danny just as the last line suggests- anywhere. He holds Danny's hand, happy he is able to so after everything and even happier when Danny squeezes back. Then he imagines the many people around and their awful staring. Their glaring, judging; making their disgust known as well as he does.

Dash drags a hand through his hair, becoming destressed.

 _Buy a model rocket, and build it w/ him_

That one is a nice thought, and the list continues like this. Small, thoughtful and enjoyable things Dash wants to do with Danny today that bring a small smile to his face. He hasn't had a smile in over a week.

But, still, this doesn't give him many ways to apologies, does it? Dash wishes the paper held an Oscar worthy speech of some sort. He has never been good at speaking from the heart. He can't remember the last time he thought to apologies to anyone. He wouldn't even know how to ask if they could meet somewhere to talk.

And this brings him to the last line, at the very bottom of the scribble-filled paper. This line is the neatest, and supports a large asterisk at the beginning, symbolising its importance for Dash.

 _*Meet 6pm, this Saturday, behind the school._

 _ **Just**_ **talk** _ **to him already, you idiot.**_

The paper doesn't have the speech or the magic spell Dash was hoping for, but it gives him a chance to right at least some of his wrongs. He was stupid to think he could dodge the responsibility again.

Dash leans back in his chair, and starts to at least try and sort his mind for tomorrow night.

* * *

Danny is lying on his back and staring at the many stars above him in the black sky. He is atop a roof of a high building, the highest one he can find to get away from the light pollution of the city for the best view of space. It's cold and windy way up here, but the isolation and the chance to see a flying comet outweigh the disadvantages.

He lays here without much of a thought; until his phone suddenly vibrates.

The break away from his blissfully blank mind has him groaning, and Danny digs his phone out of his jumpsuit pants. He is in his ghost form, because god forbid he have to explain how a human got onto a roof top with no entrances, even if the chance of him getting caught is slim to none.

Danny finds it's a message from Sam;

 _ **SAM:**_ _Hey Clueless, doing anything Sat?_

Danny chooses to ignore the nickname this once. He raises the phone over his head and replies;

 _Sleeping, hopefully_

The next message has him frowning, however;

 _ **SAM:**_ _You did that in class_

This message Danny chooses to ignore all together, and he rolls onto his side. Yes, he fell asleep in class. Maybe more than once. People don't seem to want him to forget it anytime soon.

Danny assumes Sam wants to invite him to do something Saturday, but he truly does plan on sleeping. He plans on doing nothing all weekend, actually, if he can help it. He wants to lie in bed like he is lying on this roof, because he is just that motivated for life at the moment.

He tries not to think about that one time he took Dash out flying on a night like this. He tells himself this roof isn't significant at all, just a high perch to look at the stars. Alone.

The phone buzzes again, and Danny humours it.

 _ **SAM:**_ _Come on, I want to help you stop moping already_

I'm not moping, Danny thinks.

 _ **SAM:**_ _And don't try to deny it_

Danny sighs, and rolls again onto his stomach with the phone in front of him.

 _What do you want me to do on sat then?_ He may as well know what he is already turning down.

 _ **SAM:**_ _Nothing much_

 _ **SAM:**_ _Just to meet someone behind the school at 6pm_

Clueless may be a nickname of his, but it doesn't take Danny too long to figure out what is going on. He is a little annoyed.

 _u wnat to set me and dash up?_ Danny types harder than he may need to, _Seriously?_

 _ **SAM:**_ _I am insulted_

 _ **SAM:**_ _'Setting up' implies you don't know about it_

 _ **SAM:**_ _I obviously did a very bad job at that_

Now Danny is very annoyed, and slightly hurt at how much Sam seems to think of this as a joke. But, Danny knows, she was never happy with Danny's sudden relationship with Dash at all. Neither was Tucker. 'Unhealthy' was a word thrown around so much Danny almost forgot the meaning, and in the beginning Danny felt ashamed at how many 'why' questions he couldn't quite answer. Why are you seeing him? Why do you talk to him? Why do you like him, even with all he does?

They couldn't understand, because they just don't know. And it sounds so redundant and underwhelming and cliché, but it's because Dash is a better person than what he lets on. Maybe if Danny didn't hide half of himself he wouldn't have seen past the man that loves to hate. Maybe that would have been for the better. But he couldn't help confronting the fact that Dash is more than the bully at school with some sort of understanding, and that understanding attracted him all the more.

Sam and Tucker would ask these questions, and Danny would shrug, because they don't know. They weren't there when Dash bashfully admitted his love of drawing and cheesy romance movies, or when he comforted Danny's stress-filled and uncontrollable sobbing with a gentle, reassuring hug and a kiss on a roof top.

 _This isn't a joke, Sam_ , Danny texts. It takes a little while for the reply.

 _ **SAM:**_ _U're right_

 _ **SAM:**_ _sorry_

Danny is slightly surprised at the understanding.

 _ **SAM**_ _: But I am serious. This isn't a set up. Dash agreed 2 do it_

 _ **SAM**_ _: We aren't tricking you_

 _ **SAM**_ _: Just giving a push_

 _ **SAM**_ _: U 2 just need 2 talk already_

Danny quickly types, _Wait wait wait_

 _ **SAM**_ _: ?_

… _.Dash wants to see me?_

Danny is honestly surprised. He agreed to this? To suddenly meet up after a week of pointedly avoiding him? The last thing Danny saw of Dash was his retreating back from a hotel room, and after a week with nothing more, he was ready for that to be _very_ last thing.

 _ **SAM:**_ _Tucker was the one to talk to him,_

The surprises keep coming tonight, Danny thinks.

 _ **SAM:**_ _But yeah he says Dash wants to see you_

Danny tries to ignore the fact his heart is already beating faster at the thought, but it's hard to do so. His grip on his phone is suddenly tighter.

However, he can't help the nagging, anxiety induced thoughts. Perhaps Dash wants to tell him it's over in person, to voice what that horrified face had thought when he told him the truth. To let out his anger.

But, Danny thinks this would be better than nothing. To get some closure instead of acting like he didn't see Dash turn a different corner at school because of him.

Danny's grip is tighter, and his heart hurts at the fear of meeting with him tomorrow night. He types,

 _Ok._

 _Guess sleeping can wait._

* * *

6 PM Saturday comes so quickly Danny supposes he blinked the past half a day away. He can't seem to recall how he is suddenly flying, invisible, above the high school building.

Before arriving, Danny had been in his room. He was having trouble with something he had never had to think too much about before, given the situations usually made the decisions for him. He didn't know which form to appear in. He was filled with pros and cons and insecurities, and he even took a look in the mirror. He humoured himself with the comparison of choosing a matching outfit for a date, instead of an entire state of being.

He chose being a ghost over a human. He thinks Dash might be more at ease with the form he was usually so relaxed with. With the form he had gotten to know, even if Danny was Danny either way. He doesn't know if this will have that effect. He doesn't know what Dash thinks of him anymore.

So now he hovers above the meeting spot, hoping for Dash to make his way soon, yet praying he doesn't show at all.

The back of the school holds nothing of importance. The wall of the tall building, a few dumpsters, and dying grass. It faces the oval. The large lights over and around said oval are the only source allowing Danny to see.

Danny flies closer until he is hovering just over the grass, and becomes visible. He looks to both sides of himself, expecting, and clenches and unclenches his hands. He's nervous.

He hears the crunching of shoes on dry dirt and grass to his left, and he turns his head at the sound. His heart beats. The footsteps are around the corner, and they stop for a second at the turn. He hears shifting, and then Dash makes himself visible.

Danny notices the pause Dash makes upon seeing him, and he doesn't know how to take it. Dash's face looks set. Dash decides to slowly make his way closer. Danny stays put, hovering and glowing over the ground. The closer Dash gets, the more Danny starts to fidget. He imagines again what Dash may be preparing to say. The anger. The betrayal. The disgust.

By the time Dash's nose is touched by the light of Danny's skin, he isn't looking at him anymore. His eyes travel to the ground, and Dash's hands are suddenly rubbing together. Danny is shocked and confused to see Dash looks just as nervous as he feels. Maybe, he dares, even more so.

Dash briefly looks up to Danny's face, and then back down. He opens his mouth.

"I, um," He slightly shakes his head, "Hey."

It's a simple greeting, but the unexpectedly soft tone and gentle approach has Danny's shoulders relaxing. He shows a small, brief smile, not having heard a single word from Dash in a long time.

"Hey." Danny returns. He turns his eyes to the wall. He doesn't know what he wants to say apart from this. Does he apologise, again, for not telling him sooner? For keeping this a secret? In honesty, Danny simply wants to ask how Dash is. How his week has been. He wants to pretend nothing has changed.

Dash seems to be in the same position, because they stand (float) like this for a while, avoiding eye contact. Then, Danny starts, "Um, well-" He rubs his hands together in an awkward motion, "I'm sorry-"

"-For what?" Dash suddenly speaks, cutting Danny off effectively. Danny looks to his face, and finds that Dash is suddenly staring at him, intently, almost angry. Before Danny can find an answer, Dash continues, "Why would _you_ be apologising?"

Danny is lost for words at this sudden change of Dash. Dash looks down again, teeth grit and his hands have turned to fists at his side.

"You don't have anything to apologise for." Dash says firmly, and Danny realises he isn't angry at _him_. Danny's face softens.

"I kept a big secret from you," Danny says, "And I shouldn't have."

"B-But _of course_ you kept-" He gestures vaguely to Danny's form "-t-that secret from me!" Dash says rather passionately. "I thought I was," He stalls for a moment, and drags a hands through his hair, "I thought I was doing the same to _you_."

Danny doesn't know what to say to this. He is confused. So he waits for Dash to continue. He gets a humourless and bitter laugh before he starts.

"I never did invite you to a football game, huh?" Dash isn't looking at Danny at all now. He says this to the ground, and he shakes his head. "It seems so stupid to say this now. Now that all the reasons are, well, g-gone. But, I…I didn't want you to see me at school. Or anywhere around my friends, and stuff…"

Dash looks back up to Danny, and shares another humourless chuckle at himself, but his face shows pain.

"I didn't want you to see how I was at school, or just around town, you know, normally. I figured a guy who spends his time saving kittens from trees and people from monsters wouldn't like a, um, guy like me, s-so, I," Dash stops short, and lightly shrugs, and Danny can finish the sentence for him.

He hid a side of himself. Or, he thought he did. He tried to.

"I didn't want you to see what me and my team do to the mascot when we lose, but, f-fuck," Dash says, and quickly puts a hand over his face, but Danny can still see his quivering mouth. "Y-You _were_ the mascot sometimes!"

Danny isn't especially surprised when he sees tears drip from Dash's chin to the grass. And at the reminder of what Dash and his team _do_ do to the mascot, at how Dash 'normally' is around others, a part of him was glad for the remorse. A much stronger part of him wanted the tears to stop.

"But," Danny says, slowly, "I know you aren't _really_ like that. Not all the time, anyway…"

"But I am!" Dash says, loud and accusing of himself, "I, I mean, I wasn't lying to you all the time, right, b-but I am so _horrible_ at school, and I mean, I've never even _thought_ about it, because I have never cared about s-someone so much…" He trails off abruptly, and looks as if he doesn't know what to say, or even what was coming out of his mouth to begin with.

The tears don't stop, and he rubs at them.

"I h-hurt you." Dash sobs, and to Danny that sound voices all of the regret. Dash's shoulders are shaken by it.

Danny doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to, because what Dash said is true; he did hurt him. A lot, and Danny can do nothing but wait as Dash comes to terms with this. But he isn't happy Dash is so upset. One year ago he would have liked to get even and throw a punch or two. He would have loved for Dash to cry over what he has done. Now, he only hopes Dash can learn from the mistakes, and he wants the sobs to stop as soon as possible.

The jock does calm down after a while, and his cheeks are slowly wiped dry with a sleeve. Danny watches as he somewhat composes himself, and Dash finally looks back to Danny.

"Um, c-can you, ah…" Dash drifts off, as if not knowing how to phrase his question. He gestures to Danny's body for a moment, and Danny raises an eyebrow before he abruptly understands.

Danny is surprised. This wasn't something he would have thought Dash would want to see again, and he still finds himself anxious about changing forms in fort of him. But, Danny complies to the request, trusting Dash to have a better reaction than the first time at least.

He lands on the ground first, and the two are blinded for a second by the white halo of light that appears around his waist. Danny turns from a ghost to a human in seconds, and now gravity has him standing a head shorter than Dash.

Dash looks down at Danny, as a human, for a while. His expression is soft and a little sad. Dash then nods, perhaps to himself, and clears his throat.

"I'm sorry." Dash says to Danny, voice determined, and Danny's lips show a small smile, "And I really like you. Like, really like you. So, if you still wanted to, you know, watch crappy movies on the weekends and look at the stars, then that would be great. More than great." Danny thinks Dash's bashful smile completes his choppy proposal just perfectly.

Danny feels his own smile grow and his being warm at the words. He feels better than he has in a long time, and he nods his head as an answer. He thinks the answer should have been obvious, but Dash beams at the movement.

"G-Great!" Dash says, getting excited and stepping closer, "Wow, this, well, this turned out better than I thought it would." He admits. Danny doesn't want to remind him he actually _cried_ halfway through, but he definitely agrees with him.

"Yeah, it did." Danny says, smile not breaking, and he gently goes to hold Dash's hand, because it is there and he just feels like it's a good time to do so. Dash doesn't complain in the least, and instead goes a step further.

He leans down, finding for the first time he has to, and Danny doesn't hesitate to join him in a kiss. They are cold and in the dark and behind the school next to dumpsters, but Danny feels like he wouldn't want this night to go any other way, even in his head. This is a great outcome, he thinks.

The kiss is broken unexpectedly by a small chuckle from Dash, however, and Danny pulls away, confused. "What is it?"

Dash shakes his head lightly, "No, no it's nothing." He doesn't continue until Danny's insistent staring pushes him on, "Well, I just thought that this is a lot less like kissing an ice cube, that's all…"

Danny looks scandalised, "You _do_ have a problem with my temperature!"

Dash raises his hands in defence, "It isn't a _problem_ ," He insists, "But this," He takes Danny's hand back into his, and gives the back of it a small rub with his thumb. "This is nice."

Danny can't help the feel of his cheeks burning and his mouth is defiantly showing an inexcusably wobbly smile.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Dash's hand is away from Danny's too fast for his liking, and Dash is walking back the way he came, much to Danny's confusion. Not knowing what the hell he is doing, Danny supposes he needs to wait and see.

When Dash comes back from around the corner, Danny covers his mouth to stop the incredulous laughter.

In his hands, Dash holds a large _gift basket_ , complete with pretty see-through cellophane and a bow or two. When it gets close enough, Danny sees the contents of chocolate (plain milk, his favourite) and candy and, and is that a small box of a buildable model rocket?

"Oh my God, Dash…" Danny can't keep down the chuckle, "You…" He extends his arms as it is given to him.

"…Too much?" Dash asks as a genuine question, even as the basket takes both of Danny's arms to hold.

"Yes." Danny says, blunt, "But I love it."

* * *

 **Your reviews are amazing~~! they give me a smile every time i re-read them.**


	4. Think About It

**Heeey, it only took a month. One month to disappoint you all. My excuse is i have been stressing about organizing for exchange to China for next year. I also just wanted to tell everyone that im going to Freaking CHINA next year. Holy shit.**

 **Sorry for the abrupt change of mood for this chap, i know everyone liked the cutie stuff at the end of the last chap.**

 **That being said, hope you like it.**

* * *

"Are you even _trying_?" Danny asks with a smug smile. He presses the controller buttons with a practiced speed and flicks the joystick with perfect timing, sometimes harder than he probably needs to. Dash can't keep up, obviously. His character is getting his ass handed to him.

"Shut up, Fenton." Dash says, face set in hard concentration, and maybe a little frustration. He fumbles with his controller. Danny only laughs at the order, and instead gives Dash's character a charged move that sends his health well into the red once again. Danny has no intention of going easy. There is a reason to his brutality, however. He is a little annoyed at Dash today.

They are in Dash's room and on the floor in front of his large flat-screen TV. The console itself is one Danny brought over after finding out that Dash didn't have one to begin with, much to his disgust. They have been playing for the better part of an hour, and Danny, despite his aggravation, is loving every second.

You wouldn't have guessed just under a year ago one wouldn't have bothered to give the other the time of day. A punch to the face, maybe. Dash's parents certainly didn't, and Danny was happy to have been finally introduced to Mr and Mrs Baxter. This introduction was very short on their way to Dash's room, however, and to Danny, it was also quite disheartening.

It's the elephant in the room. A pressure upon their relationship that _surly_ Dash could feel all too well. Three weeks of letting Dash 'think it over' and 'prepare' was testing Danny's patience. The introduction in the hallway had tipped the scales quite a bit.

He had been introduced as a friend.

The screen flashes and cheers once again at Danny's victory, but Danny is passed congratulating himself. He drops his controller on the floor, done with the distraction Dash is obviously trying to draw out, and turns to the jock.

"We need to talk." Danny says, as softly as he can. He hates how cliché the line is, but it gets him to the point quicker than starting in a round-about way. Like the weather, or something.

Dash is already clicking through the main menu to start a new battle, and he continues to do so. His eyes don't leave the screen and his fingers flick on the remote. "What is it?" He says after a while, obviously playing dumb.

Danny's aggravation heightens at the childishness, but he keeps it in check. He has done so for three weeks, because he knows how difficult this is for Dash. He can understand. However, he doesn't like it. The lack of motivation. He hates the avoidance of the topic, like it's going to bite Dash's head off. It's something Danny is beginning to really hate about Dash. He's really stubborn when he is afraid.

So, Danny sighs. "You _know_ , Dash." Because he definitely does. He isn't stupid.

The flicking of the controller finally slows to a stop, but Dash still doesn't look at him. Danny waits for an answer, but when he doesn't get one, he continues to carry the conversation. He wants this solved, and if Dash expresses that he is finding it too much to ask, then he has a suggestion. This suggestion is one he doesn't favour, but it's better than doing nothing. Better than continuing to hide.

"It's been a while." He says, and prides himself on his ease into the topic that has been hanging over them for too long. "I was wondering if you are done thinking about it. Or preparing, or, you know, whatever you wanted to do."

Dash still avoids looking to him. His thumb begins to flick the joystick in a nervous twitch.

"I…." He begins, and Danny is glad for the start of the conversation, until he continues. "I just, need some more…time."

The hesitation in his voice makes it obvious; he doesn't know how much time. He probably hopes to never know, and Danny scowls. He wants Dash to stop playing already.

"How much time?" Danny says, not so softly. It isn't a question, not really, because they both know there isn't an answer. Dash never needed 'time to think it over' or whatever. He just doesn't want things to change.

And with no answer, Danny abruptly stands. "Perhaps you need time to think _alone_ then," He says, "So, I guess this _friend_ of yours should be going." And Danny turns to head for the door.

His distaste for the situation is becoming unbearable. And it's hurting how much Dash seems to be fine with it. At how much Dash wants it to stay the same, even after Danny has expressed his desires to go on a date. To tell his parents about their relationship. Because he is happy about it, and exited. He hadn't realised Dash's fear of such things, so he accepted that Dash needed some time. He didn't want to force him, after all. He hadn't thought Dash would simply ignore the problem like this.

Danny is half way to the door when Dash finally speaks, hastily.

"Wait! Danny, just wait, ok?" Dash says, and Danny does. He hadn't actually had an intention of leaving. He wants this solved, today.

Danny turns back around. Dash is standing, his controller on the ground, and is finally looking to him. He looks guilty, Danny thinks, and perhaps frustrated.

"It's just…hard. You have no idea." Dash admits. Danny can't help but roll his eyes.

"I _do_ have an idea, Dash," He says, "That's why I haven't brought it up in forever!"

Dash looks away from Danny at that, and he glares to the carpet with furrowed brows. He doesn't have anything more to say in defence, because telling people about their relationship doesn't have any more walls to get around. It's just him, and his fears.

The silence continues, in which Dash seems to be having an inward battle of his own.

"You're scared." Danny says, factually. It's said with no room for augment, but Dash tries anyway.

"No," He counters, "I'm not." And he crosses his arms and straitens his back, trying to look bigger.

Danny walks the distance that separates them, and puts a comfortable hand to Dash's arm. "Yes, you are. I get that, Dash. You're afraid of what people think." It isn't like he is surrounded by the best group of supporters, Danny knows. Danny has been told about Dash's parents' opinions on topics such as equal marriage. "But, I'm here for you, when you need. We can't keep hiding like this, Dash. _You_ can't keep hiding."

Danny takes a breath, "And, and if me being there for you isn't enough, then I guess I, um, have a suggestion."

Dash raises his eyes from the ground at that, and Danny takes it as an urge for him to continue.

"You're afraid what people will think about you going out with a guy, but also about _which_ guy, right?" Dash looks even more guilty, and his eyes hit the ground again. "I know I'm not the most popular person out there." Danny says as casually as possible with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood even just a little. "So, if going out with a Fenton is too hard, maybe, I mean, I guess I'll be ok with you…telling people you're going out with Phantom instead."

Dash's head shoots back up as soon as the words are comprehended, and his eyes are wide. He knows how much Danny wants to date as a human, and he must know what Danny would be sacrificing if he were to agree to this. He wouldn't be able to tell his parents and they would continue to avoid each other at school; two things Danny is hoping to change the most.

Danny is hesitant to offer this, because in contrast, this may be the 'out' Dash is looking for. Fenton is seen as a loser, he knows, and one of the ones you don't want to be associated with if you like being at the top of the social ladder, which Dash certainly is. Dash can't see his life without being at the top. Telling or showing the school that he is _dating_ said loser, well, he's jumping off the highest perch and committing social suicide.

Phantom, on the other hand? Danny assumes Dash would be practically glued to the top for the rest of his beautiful school year.

But, Danny compromises, he could go down the street with him, at least.

Dash doesn't says anything straight away. He stares, as if trying to figure out if this offer is a trick or not. Danny shows him smile, as much of a natural smile as he can manage, to relinquish Dash's doubts. In truth, Danny is nervous Dash will take it. But he won't regret the suggestion if it makes Dash feel safer.

It's always at the worst of times, and now is one of them, so of course Danny's ghost sense goes off. He can't help but groan. Dash looks just as disappointed.

He changes into a ghost in a second, and now floating, he gives a still Dash a quick kiss on the cheek in the next one. Before he goes, however, he makes sure Dash knows he can't put it off forever.

"Two days, ok? Think about it." And Danny flies through the wall.

Dash gives a nod.

* * *

The next day, Dash can't think about much else. The history class he is seated in now is no exception. The teacher hasn't shown up yet, however, but the multiple conversations going on around him go unnoticed.

He has one day. It feels like a due date of an assignment, though his teachers would be over joyed if he ever gave their assignments half the thought he is giving to Danny's proposition now.

At first glance the answer for Dash is simple; Phantom. It's perfect, even. The perfect way to put his secrets out there and to surely retain everything he holds dear. His popularity, his friends, his respect. His whole school life, something he can't live without, something he built and retained with an iron fist, and something he felt would crumble at the drop of a rainbow hat. But, he thinks, telling people this fact about himself, and follow it up with ' _oh, and Danny freaking Phantom is my boyfriend_ '? It's like getting shot while wearing a bulletproof-vest. Or maybe an awesome ghost-ecto-shield thing.

It's his answer, and he was all too afraid to suggest it himself. He didn't think Danny would be very happy with the idea. Until he brought it up.

Paulina sits behind him, chatting away with Star about something Dash doesn't care about. Perhaps the end of year prom. She hasn't asked to go with him yet, and he hasn't asked to go with her (obviously), but every year they seem to be stuck together for that long night one way or another. It's expected. Dash fits Paulina's high standards, and Dash doesn't feel like he has much of a say either way. Of course, what would people think if he turned down the most beautiful woman in school? What would they suggest the reason behind the rejection was? Would they find out? They might, Dash had feared, so he goes with her every year.

He knows Paulina's views around the notion that people are attracted to the same gender. Mainly, her disturbed face at just the idea a woman may like her like a man does. This brief conversation had made Dash feel even more uneasy to say the least.

Dash feel eyes on him, and he looks to the seat at his left. Kwan looks at him expectantly.

"…What?" Dash asks, irritated at the staring. Kwan's ever persistent smile falters.

"You weren't listening to me, were you?" He says more than asks. Dash doesn't say anything to that, because of course he wasn't. He has things the think about. Kwan sighs, "I was wondering if you'll show up to training tonight."

"Oh…" Dash says. Kwan has reason to ask. Over the past year he hasn't shown up to all the football training as religiously as he used to. As much as he loves it, he loved going to a certain hotel a little more. He never gave explanations. But, he thinks, Kwan has never pried. He likes that about Kwan the most; He generally keeps to himself. "Yeah, sure I'll show." He is the star of the team, after all. He can't skip too much.

Kwan's smile is back, though Dash doesn't see it leave the man often. "Great." He says.

The teacher walks in, drawing everyone's attention.

Dash sits quietly through the class, distracted. He thinks about the choice Danny had given him, he thinks about having everyone know the secret he has tried to hide for years. He thinks about the awaiting heart attack of nerves. Then, he thinks about Kwan, sitting right next to him. What would _he_ think? However, to his amazement, Dash struggles even _with_ his pessimistic view to imagine Kwan being cruel towards him. He is stunned by this, and begins to wonder even more.

Maybe the whole school really is too much for Dash to handle. Maybe he needs to start small.

* * *

It's 5:30pm, and the training was exhausting. Dash wipes the sweat from his forehead with a small towel. He stands in front his open gym locker and the rest of his team gets ready to go home. Some laugh at a joke, others criticise players of their lazy work. Nobody brings up Dash's performance, however. Even he knows he didn't do his best tonight.

He's distracted. Nervous. He has a plan, but it doesn't have many steps. Or a guaranteed outcome. Not all the sweat is from running around the oval five times.

Dash gets dressed into clothes that don't smell as much like death and drenches himself in deodorant. He does this slowly, however, watching as one by one teammates depart with a wave as well as keeping an eye on Kwan. As he does this he feels a sense of anticipation, and stupidity.

There are three people in the locker room by the time Dash doesn't know what else to do to stall time. Luckily, one of them is Kwan, but Dash is beginning to lose his nerve. This is stupid, he thinks. How the hell is he supposed to do this? How does one start such a conversation? The _weather_? Why would he tell him, anyway? Why would he care? Hopefully he doesn't, Dash thinks. That's the goal. To be indifferent to the fact. He stands, glaring at his closed locker in frustration with himself, when Kwan is the one to approach him first.

"Hey, you ok, Dash?" Kwan asks, casually. "You seemed pretty distracted out there." Again, he doesn't say this condescendingly, nor with serious concern (which Dash is grateful for. He hates prying concern). He says it almost off-headedly, as if he doesn't mind if you don't answer but at the same time will listen if it's something more. He says it warmly.

"Ah, I…yeah." Dash says, dumbly. He could hit himself. He is supposed to be setting up the conversation, but he has no idea how. He doesn't really want to.

Dash and Kwan are suddenly the only people in the room, and Dash watches as Kwan grabs his bag. He is going to leave, Dash realises. He stands, contemplating, even as Kwan puts the bag strap over his shoulder. Kwan is walking to the door, and at the time he raises his hand to wave bye, Dash speaks.

"Kwan, actually, I," Dash isn't looking to his friend. "I, um, have to tell you something." In half his mind, Dash points out, no, he doesn't, while the other half insists, yes, he really does. It makes him stall.

Kwan simply stops his way to the door, unaffected by the sudden insistence he stay. Perhaps it isn't so sudden. Kwan has obviously detected something is up. He waits for Dash to continue.

But Dash doesn't know how to continue. Does he just say it? Rip it off like a band-aid? Does he need to build up to it? The longer Dash stalls, the less he knows, and the more the air around him thickens. Suddenly he _can_ see Kwan's rejection. Suddenly he can see his friend walk out without much of a word, and it frightens him.

Oh, _he_ did that once, didn't he? Weeks ago now. Is this how Danny felt, before telling Dash his secret? He must have, if not worse.

How did Danny do it? How did he get the courage? How is he so _brave_? Dash stands, choking on what to say before his friend, and he remembers that night. How scared Danny was. He remembers Danny's reason for going through with it; because Dash deserved to know, he had said. He did that for him, and to keep from hiding from him any longer.

Danny doesn't want to hide anymore, and Dash knows, not so deep down, he doesn't either. He doesn't want to go to prom with Paulina. He doesn't want to tell his parents Danny's a friend. He wants to go out on a date.

He has to brave it. If not for himself, who has honestly been preparing to hide for the rest of his life, than for Danny.

"Kwan," Dash addresses, firmly, "I just wanted to tell you something. And I totally don't care what you think, you know, it's just something I want you to know." He puts on a hard look to prove it, even if he is lying through his teeth.

Kwan's tired smile doesn't leave and he nods, "Sure. What is it?"

Dash walks closer to Kwan, feeling the distance is too much to get his uncaring point across, and crosses his arms. He stands taller. "I'm," He says, and curses inwardly when the next words don't want to come out, like his brain has a panicked hold of ten men on them. He grits his teeth and spits it out anyway, "I-I like guys."

His stomach flips at what he just said, and he feels his heart speed up erratically. He realises he had turned his head away from Kwan, and forces himself look at his friends face. Ex-friend, maybe.

But, to Dash's confusion, shock, and joy, Kwan hasn't lost his smile. His face isn't distorted in some disgusted sneer, and he isn't walking out the door.

"Oh," Is Kwan's reaction, if you can even call it that. His lack of reaction has Dash's shoulders loosen. His face must show the disbelief, "What's with that face?" Kwan asks with humour, "What did you think I would do?"

And suddenly Dash doesn't even know. Kwan didn't walk out, but of course he didn't. This is Kwan Dash is talking to.

Dash lowers his tall stance, and shakes his head at himself. "I, heh, I don't know. Something more, I guess." Dash picks up his bag, but even so, he feels so much lighter.

Kwan chuckles at that vague response, and they walk side by side out the door, something Dash didn't expect to do. Kwan turns to him as they walk.

"So, you going with anyone to prom? Got a boyfriend?"

And Dash's heart beats faster again, but for a completely different reason. No one has ever asked him that. It's the first time a question about dating felt so _right_ to hear.

"Yeah," Dash answers, looking at the cold pavement with a warm smile, "I do."

* * *

"He's going to choose Phantom, you know." Sam says simply as she pokes at her sad salad with a fork. The cafeteria is lively, but Danny hears her loud and clear. He also hears her undertone of ' _he's a selfish dick like that_ '.

"I would." Tucker puts in, and goes ignored.

"And I am ok with that." Danny says, and he feels like he has repeated himself one too many times. "I wouldn't have brought it up if I wasn't." Of course, he is only half telling the truth.

But, he _has_ to be ok with it, because Sam is only voicing his own thoughts (without the selfish part). Danny also thinks Dash will pick Phantom, hands down. He can't really blame him for it, though. In his situation, Danny would choose to dodge the popularity-crippling-bullet as well.

Doesn't mean it doesn't hurt just a bit.

* * *

Dash's table is loud with lively chatter and enthusiastic eating. Not like this is any different from any other day, Dash thinks, apart from the fact he must be keeping unusually quiet. Nobody brings this up, however, so Dahs stays within his own thoughts.

He knows, as much as he isn't' paying attention, most of the occupants are talking about shopping, dating, and prom. Again, nothing new. Dash doesn't exactly know why he draws so much attention to this now, or why he doesn't join in with the laughter. It simply, yet strangely, doesn't feel right at the moment to do so. If he is honest with himself, his high school life hasn't looked the same since that night at the hotel. It's still enjoyable, of course, but in a tainted sort of way. He doesn't feel himself. He is coming to terms with the fact he never has.

Danny's table is three rows down the cafeteria, and Dash wonders what Danny and his friends are talking about. Probably something cool, like ghosts. Maybe that conversation wouldn't be so nice either. Dash (though wouldn't admit it easily) is quite scared of ghosts (excluding the obvious).

Paulina is suddenly sitting in his line of sight, blocking his slither of a view of Danny between the crowds. She sits straight, proper, and looks disinterested at her expensive nails as she speaks.

"So," She begins, and Dash pails as she continues, "My dress is going to be light blue with these _beautiful_ and _cute_ frills down the back. I had it special made!" She says, proud and excited. "So, you have to match, obviously. Blue dress shirt, but the _right_ shade, and loose the tie. No ties. They don't look good on you most of the time. Got it?" She asks her hand, expecting.

Dash stares, thinking fast and yet coming to no solid idea of what to say. He sits still.

Half of his mind does get it, and after years of repartition he is already taking notes of what's expected (though he does come to wonder just what the _right_ shade of blue really is). The other half is struggling. The past repetition came easy with the fact Dash knew what was expected of a popular, good looking football star, and never knowing what he wanted for himself. There was no other option, in his mind or otherwise. Now, he has options, and he doesn't know how to handle it. He doesn't know what to say.

Paulina is waiting for an answer, expecting the affirmative, no doubt. Dash feels unsure and as though his ability to speak has failed him. Then Dash feels a hand on his shoulder.

Kwan is next to him, and he gives Dash a small nod of encouragement, and suddenly Dash has a small smile on his face at the understanding gesture.

How will Paulina react, he wonders? He imagines her face when the words 'boyfriend' and 'Phantom' leave his mouth in the same sentence, and the expression in his head stretches his smile just a bit. It's something she herself has been dreaming of the better part of two years.

But, Dash stops short of the words leaving his mouth. Is this his choice? Is he going to say Phantom? He closes his mouth, slowly, hesitantly, and becomes again not sure what he was going to say at all.

"Well?" Paulina presses, "You have a suit in mind or not? I want everything to be perfect."

"I'm not going with you."

Paulina finally looks up from her nails, "What?" Dash isn't sure if Paulina is shocked at the development or generally asking what he had said. With how quietly and quick it came out, even Dash is wondering himself. He sounded so meek.

"I," Dash swallows, "I can't go to prom with you." And Kwan's hand leaves Dash's shoulder when he stands from his seat. He doesn't feel like himself here, with people who only know a half of himself he is feeling ashamed of. The half that hides behind horrible jokes and a strong exterior. The half that hurts people.

It's about time he show the other side.

Paulina looks scandalised and thoroughly confused, as does many of the people at the crowded table that have overheard.

"Sorry." And, picking up his tray, Dash stiffly moves from his significantly quieter table. His heart beats fast, but the anxiety isn't entirely there. He feels exited. His face wears a determined mask.

He knows confused eyes are following him as he walks past rows of tables. He feels them. He hates that he feels them, but he walks on, with purpose. He walks past three rows of crowded tables until he comes to one with only three chatting students.

Danny is the first to look up from his food and Dash's excitement escalates. Suddenly opinions don't matter all that much. In front of him is someone who has gotten to know Dash inside school and out, good days and bad, horrible and nice, and even now Danny shears with him a small smile. If he can get that small, genuine piece of recognition from the one person who knows him as a whole, what has he to fear?

Anyone who knows Dash realises pretty quickly he isn't good with words, so he instead does something daringly different.

Danny seems to be confused as to why Dash is suddenly standing at a not A-listers seat, but he doesn't get much of a chance to ask when Dash leans over the table. He balances one hand on the table to hold his weight, and the other to gently caress a startled Danny's jaw as he brings their lips together in the middle of the full cafeteria.

He also isn't known to do things subtly.

Danny is tense at first (Dash is surprised that he isn't himself) and he can hear the shock of one poor student in the form of a tray loudly hitting the ground, but it doesn't take very long for him to relax. Dash even fells him smile. The smile gets too big and they part.

Danny's face is very red, and that coupled with the biggest grin he has ever seen makes Dash think he just made the best decision of his life.

"Danny," Dash says, still frozen in his position of leaning over the table awkwardly, "Want to, um, go to prom with me?"

Danny laughs as if it's a great joke, "Yes, Dash, of course I'll go with you," He says, and give Dash an unexpected and quick peck on the lips.

"Not as much of a dick as I thought," He hears a thoughtful mumble from the goth to his right. He doesn't say anything, instead he decides to sit down. Awkwardly slowly, however, not entirely knowing if he is quite welcome by all. Danny insists it's alright, and even looks over joyed that Dash is sitting at their table, like he was the final piece to his puzzle.

He spends the rest of lunch at this table, not having the strength to go back and explain himself to his peers, but also not willing to leave so soon. But, having only spent a large amount of time with one of occupants, the conversations did get awkward.

However, as Dash relaxed somewhat, he found that the whiny tech-nerd is actually quite funny at times. After some topics, he found the goth was quite the passionate and caring person. He sees why Danny, Fenton or otherwise, would hang with them so much.

Then he wonders abruptly how he got here—sitting at the 'losers table', away from the people he once had so much in common with; casually holding Danny Fenton's hand over a once again loud and busy cafeteria. But, it wouldn't matter, would it? What he did to end up so happy. Even if it felt like hell for a few weeks.

He would do it all again, because he doesn't regret it in the least.

-End.

* * *

 **I'm glad i finally finished this, but i really enjoyed writing it. Going to miss you Shitting Shipping Fic...**


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